The Bitch is Back!

I started my period today - yes, Aunt Flow is visiting us for the holidays!

In light that Moo and I are trying to start a family, this is not how I wanted to start the Labor Day holiday.

Any woman who says that she feels more like a woman because she menstruates is insane. You heard me.

Bleeding out of my lady bits doesn't make me feel womanly. It's sticky, weird and gross. There's nothing even remotely dignified about it - for 3-5 days, you wear a diaper or a bit of fluff stuffed up your twat to take care of things. Doesn't sound like too much fun does it?

Additionally, there's the fun of PMS, cramping, diarrhea, nausea, bloating, and bitchiness.

Don't get me wrong. I'm happy being a girl. But I could do without the bleeding. Right now, the bleeding is a sign of failure. Most other months, it's just a nuisance.


I doubt that menopause will depress me. Some women feel less womanly after menopause. To me, it would be a relief to have that portion of my life over.

But right now, I'll keep on writing down the day I start and I'll keep on timing things cause I want a bambino.

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Pleasure and Pain

This is Connor. He was born on Friday, August 24, 2007 to Moo's first cousin. Moo and this cousin are only a few days apart in age and looked a lot alike as children.

Connor's parents had some trouble conceiving. His Mom had two miscarriages before this pregnancy due to problems with Rh factor. They even used the same lubricant that we're using now (Preseed - it doesn't kill sperm like Astroglide and KY Jelly can).

Seeing little Connor was amazing. We got him a little black onesie that had a white skull and cross bones on it. Very goth and cool :)

But seeing him. Holding him. Seeing my husband hold this little creature that looks so much like Moo as an infant was painful beyond words.

All I could think as I held this little boy was how much I wished that this were my child with my husband's nose and dark hair.

I wish that I could say with 100% certainty that one day this website will hold photos of my husband holding our son. I wish that I could say that we'll get pregnant soon and all this will be a funny tale to tell our kids. But I just don't know.

I want this to be a picture of me holding my son. Hopefully, it will be soon.

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Why this blog is called what it is...

Since 2002, I've lost both of my parents, been disowned by my father's family, disowned my father's family. Bought a house. Sold a house. Lost 1 job, quit 2 others and feel like quitting the one I'm in now. Additionally, Moo has lost 2 jobs and then worked as a contractor before becoming a full time employee at his current job. Meanwhile, you know what the world's been like since 2002. So, to say that my life has been stressful is an understatement.

After my mom passed away from a brief but terrible stint with lung cancer in 2004, I had what I refer to as a "mini nervous breakdown". I was put on two separate anti-depressants - Effexor and Wellbutrin. I was never suicidal or homicidal. It was just really hard for me to see that things could ever get better again. which is strange, because I tend to be a "the cup's half full" kind of person. I just had no idea who I was any more. I wasn't someone's daughter or granddaughter anymore and I had been those things so intently and so completely that it all just turned into one big wreck.

Also, I was pissed. Absolutely pissed off that my parents were off in heaven having a great time and I was here mopping up. I was stuck here doing all the hard crap and they weren't here to help me. For the first time in my life, I felt REALLY ALONE.

I went into therapy for about a year. This is one of the better things I've done. My therapist was a lovely lady, but I found myself not wanting to disappoint her. I found myself distancing myself from her and not wanting to get too attached to her. Finally, I just stopped going. I didn't feel better when I went. I could deal with things better and going to therapy just stirred things up that weren't bothering me anymore.

Things did get better. I found myself not wanting to sleep all the time and I've lost some weight which makes me feel better.

I think everyone needs a nervous breakdown. They are highly underrated ways of making you evaluate your life and who you are. I am no longer just a daughter. I'm a wife and perhaps one day, a mother. I'm a good friend. I'm a good person. I am a lover.

Additionally, I feel closer to God now. I've had some deep personal experiences with Him now and I've felt his presence in my life at some of the most difficult times in my life.

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Redneck Wedding

A few years ago, I went to a redneck wedding. Let metell you a little bit more about this beautiful day...

It was held at the beautiful American Legion hall in lovely Mableton, GA. It was on a Saturday afternoon and most of the guests stayed after thereception to pay bingo. This was the bride's first wedding so she was wearing white. I still wonderhow she got a form-fitting "mermaid" style dress that fit her properly since she was only 8 months pregnant at the time. Her maid of honor was her oldest daughter - who also happened to be the groom's oldest daughter. The maid of honor and bridesmaids all wore lovely matching HOT! PINK! LAME! hoochie mama dresses with LOTS of cleavage and were VERY short. My mom swore that one of them flashed her naughty bits as she flounced down the aisle.

The groom and his grooms men all wore white tuxes with HOT PINK ties and cummerbunds. They also complimented their attire with the ball cap of their choice. They also partook of a large amount of "chaw" or chewing tobacco during the ceremony and each held his own red SOLO cup of spit during the ceremony. The minister of this holy ceremony wore a GOLD! LAME! robe and looked like an Elvis impersonator. I found out later that he does that on the side. However, on this day he was there in his official capacity.

The bride came down the aisle on her father's arm. Most of us were distracted by her belly which gyrated furiously as she walked down the aisle. Obviously the unborn child decided that since he would be the first of his parent's children to be born after wedlock that he would celebrate by turning somersaults in his mama's tummy.

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Harry FARKING Potter ... SOB!!!

Hopefully by now, everyone's read the last HP book. If not...


SPOILER ALERT ...SPOILER ALERT ...SPOILER ALERT ...SPOILER ALERT ...SPOILER ALERT ...SPOILER ALERT ...SPOILER ALERT ...


I have to say that I've enjoyed the HP series. I started reading them at about book three (Prisoner of Azkaban). I originally read it out of spite. I thought all the adults getting all wiggy over a kid's book was ridiculous. And then I read book one (Sorcerer's Stone - Philospher's Stone for the Brits), and I got all wiggy over a kid's book. I quickly ran thru books 2 and 3 and was ready when book 4 made it's debut with all the other folks at the bookstore.

The seventh book takes us back to Privet Drive and a more mature infinitely more jaded Harry. The Durseley's are as bad as ever, but Dudley definitely shocks you with his separation anxiety as well as his willingness to let the Wizarding world protect him. It's as though he's becoming a bit more openminded.

The loss of Moody wasn't altogether unexpected. It seemed apparant to me early on that most of the "Old Guard" must be removed to enable Harry to meet Voldemort. Someone is almost always there to help rescue Harry in every other book. I felt that Harry had to face this final challenge on his own.

The death of Hedwig was devastating to me. I love animals and I bawled for a solid 30 minutes after I read this. I put the book down and told my DH that this was "a terrible book and I don't want to read any more of it!" after reading about Hedwig. However, I decided to move on after that.

I somehow knew that Fleur and Bill's wedding wouldn't go unnoticed by the Deatheaters - this wasn't all that shocking.

What was shocking was the boring, dragging, everlasting, camping trip that came after. Good grief, I feel like JK Rowling could have stripped out at least 100 pages of this drivel. What a boring section.

I won't tell you how the book ends in the event you aren't finished. I'm fairly satisfied however with the ending. Everything wraps up well enough that I don't have too many lingering questions.

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What if?

What would happen if we couldn't have children?

I've thought about this - seems like people ask me what other alternatives we'll consider if we can't - so it's not a totally new query for me.

First and foremost, I'm unwilling to do anything drastic to get pregnant. By drastic, I mean that I'm not willing to do In Vitro fertilization. My reasons are:

1. It's too damn expensive and there's not a great chance that it would work. There's never a guarantee that if you get pregnant that you'll carry the pregancy to term. But with IVF, the best that you can hope for is a 30% CHANCE of even getting pregnant. Additionally, it's 10K to 15K for EVERY attempt.

2. Sometimes I think that if God meant us to have kids, that he'd make it easier. And while I'm always overjoyed at the success of others with IVF, I feel like we will accept this decision of the cosmos if that's what it is.

I kid my husband that if we can't have kids on our own that I'll go to Guatemala and adopt a kid (or two!) and can't he just visualize the Christmas card from John, Amanda and the kids Pedro and little Guadelupe?

The truth is that we'll be happy whether we are given children or not.

I have been blessed beyond all others with my marriage. My parents didn't have an inkling what it meant to be married happily. They never were. But I am.

John and I are suited to each other exactly. He says that there's no one else like me and that he's happy that I am with him! I think that he's perfect in every way and I long to be a better person and better wife so that I'll be worthy of him and his love.

Ours is a marriage that I think will be complimented by children.

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My Innards

First, a little background info: I was diagnosed with PCOS (polycystic ovarian syndrome) about 15 years ago. From 13 until 22, my cycle ran from 10 days to 3 months. At 22, my doc put me on the Pill to help regulate my periods. With the exception of the erratic periods and my long and luxurious beard, PCOS has had very little affect on my health.

Almost 2 years ago, I stopped taking the pill to start trying to get pregnant. For the first year, DH and I just let nature take it's course. I worried that going off the pill would cause my periods to be really erratic, but they were like clock-work - every 28 days, rain or shine. About 8 months ago, we decided that we would ramp-up our attempts and I started using a fertility monitor to help in timing.

In the last 3 months, I've had more trouble from my female innards than I've ever had.

First of all, my clockwork cycles, stopped working like clockwork. I went from 28 days to 41 days.. I was afraid that my periods were going back to their normal status like before I went on the pill. However, in May, I was experiencing EXCRUCIATING pain on the way to work one morning and decided to go the Emergency room instead of work. After the most painful ultrasound on record, I was found to have a 10CM (a little over 3 inches) ovarian cyst. A month later, a follow-up visit to my gynecologist and another ultrasound found that it had shrunk a little. Last week, I went for another ultrasound and it's disappeared.

Now, my gyno wants me to visit the baby maker in her office (an infertility expert) in September. She thinks that I may need some stimulation in order to get pregnant and she also wants me to start getting bloodwork at day 21 of my cycle - to test to see if I'm ovulating.

At 37, I feel like it's now or never. In the back of my mind, since I was diagnosed with PCOS, I always knew I'd need a little help to conceive. I never meant to wait this late for motherhood. In my early twenties, I decided I wanted to have kids as soon as I was married. But then I didn't meet the man of my dreams until I was 28 and we married when I was nearly 30.Then, it was one thing after another, first job losses, then parental loss (both of my parents have passed away in the last 5 years) that made me postpone motherhood. Now I feel like there will never be a right time for parenthood, but at the same time, I feel woefully immature. Moo's cousin, with whom he was raised (they are only 6 days apart in age), will be a first time father in the next few weeks. It seems so weird and adult and I don't feel like I'm there.

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